


Tumblr fics

by Wheel_of_fortune



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 22:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20517830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wheel_of_fortune/pseuds/Wheel_of_fortune
Summary: Good Omens fanfiction posted first on tumblr.





	1. The choice

**Author's Note:**

> God gives Crowley a choice. The first choice. The only one that matters.

God goes to see one of Her angels.

‘Crowley,’ she says. 

He turns around from the nebula he’s finishing. Right now, he’s a ribbon of black energy filled with stars, with hair of fire and suns for eyes. She sees the human he will be, she sees the serpent. She sees his love for Her, and for the stars. 

‘What is it you called me, God?’  
‘It will be a name you’ll chose for yourself. I was trying it out.’  
‘What’s wrong with my current name? You gave it to me, I quite like it.’  
‘Crowley, I came to give you a choice.’

She feels his surprise. Choices hadn’t been invented yet. Free will was a thing she reserved for the humans that would one day walk the Earth, and so far no Angel had been given it. But still, he understands the meaning of the word. 

‘A choice? But- why? Why me? What kind of choice? Between what and what else? Is anyone else getting one?’

She loves her Crowley so much. It would hurt so much.

‘My Crowley, I have a mission for you. A mission, and a gift.’

She shows him the latest Angel she created. He is still dormant, a light of warm sunshine with a thousand sleeping eyes, eyes who would soon open to read a million books. He is the most beautiful thing Crowley has ever seen.

‘Who is he?’ he asks, voice full of wonder.  
‘This is Aziraphale. And you will love him more than you love me.’

He turns to Her.

‘How can this be possible, God?’

She shows him. In an instant, he sees it all: his upcoming Fall, his feeling of betrayal, of loss, of loneliness. Six thousand years on Earth, cursing her Name. He also sees an Angel on a wall, a sword, an awkward smile, a lifted wing protecting him from the rain. He sees six thousand years of camaraderie, of friendship, of pining, of wanting, of love. He sees the mission he is given, the child he has to raise, the Apocalypse he has to stop, shoulder to shoulder with this Angel.

‘Is… Is this going to happen, God?’ he whispers.   
‘Only if you accept. You know the price to pay.’  
‘…I’m going to forget your love,’ he realises. ‘I’m going to think you abandoned me.’  
‘Yes. It is part of my Plan. But you, my dear Crowley, get to chose if you want to play your part, or not.’

Crowley looks back at the sleeping Aziraphale.

‘And… will he love me back?’  
‘That is his choice.’

Crowley thinks, but he already had made up his mind. There is something so compelling in the promise of that smile.

‘Just loving him is enough,’ he finally says.   
‘Do you accept your role?’  
‘Yes, God. I accept.’

Afterwards, Crowley forgets all about this exchange, and he Falls thinking that God hates him. God lets him go, hurting for her child, but knowing that this is a path he chose for himself. And when, at the beginning of Time, a serpent meets an Angel on Eden’s wall, She smiles.


	2. The century long nap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley slept for 100 years.. in Aziraphale's bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the unpolished format, this is copied from tumblr.

Headcanon that Crowley slept a century in Aziraphale’s bed. Aziraphale didn’t notice because he just never goes into his own bedroom. 

No but listen- at some point, Crowley is visiting, and feels sleepy, so he just goes to lie down in the bedroom for a nap. But the bed smells like Aziraphale, and is warm like Aziraphale, and soft like Aziraphale… Even though the angel never slept on it, being Aziraphale’s bed, by definition, it feels like he sleeps in it. 

(Aziraphale concluded that Crowley had left the premises without saying goodbye. Or maybe the demon said goodbye but he somehow missed it. He was rather fascinated by a book.)

At some point, twelve years into the nap, Crowley wakes up, groggy, gets under the covers. 

(Oh, you know who I haven’t seen in a while? Crowley. I wonder how he’s doing.)

Fifty-one years into the nap, a fly lands on Crowley’s face. He slaps it, wakes himself up, goes “whuuu” before laying his head down on the feather pillow and falling asleep again. 

(Well, it’s been a while. Poor boy must be busy.)

Seventy-seven years, and Crowley lets out a inhuman snore. Aziraphale thinks there may be rats in the walls. Maybe a possum. The house he bought at the beginning of the century is getting rather old, but he fears moving. What if Crowley comes back and doesn’t find his new address?

(Was it something I said?)

Crowley wakes up ninety-eight years later, for no other reason that he is done sleeping. He blinks, scratches his belly. Leaves the room, yawning. 

‘Hey, Angel, is there anything to eat-’

He stops, stares at Aziraphale, who’s wearing completely different clothes. Aziraphale stares back.

‘What are you wearing-’

‘Are you telling me that you have been ASLEEP THIS WHOLE TIME.’

‘This whole- How long have I been napping?’

‘Nap- Napping?!? You call this a nap? Crowley, I haven’t seen you for the last century!’ 

Crowley shrugs.

‘Your bed is comfy,’ he mumbles.

‘That is not a valid reason- wait. I have a bed?’


	3. Before the invention of the kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley craved something that didn't exist yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find this fic translated to Vietnamese here   
https://junnarysapplepie.wordpress.com/2019/09/03/oneshot-good-omens-truoc-khi-nguoi-ta-phat-minh-ra-cai-goi-la-nu-hon

Kissing hadn’t been invented yet.

And still. When Crawly looked at the angel standing next to him, he wanted… something. To get closer. He was under his wing, but he wanted to be under his arm. Put his face in his armpit. Was that a thing? He wanted to burrow in the curls of his hair, wrap around his neck, slither under his clothes. He could feel the Angel’s warmth, and Crawly had been so cold since God took back her Grace. A sun warmed rock was good, but an Angel? Getting to feel the aura of pure love and kindness this one radiated, but up close? It would be like being back in Heaven. Crawley ached for it.

Eve would invent kissing in three weeks and five days time. Most would assume she kissed Adam first, but no, it is entirely possible to conceive life without exchanging a single kiss. No, the first Kiss in History would be delivered to Cain’s head, two minutes and thirty-seven seconds after his birth. 

And yet. Crawly was standing on a wall, under the wing of an Angel, looking at the first storm, and he felt the need. To get his face closer to the Angel. And… nuzzle? The lions did it. It was cute. Did he want to eat him? The serpent part of him wanted to open his jaws wide, engulf him and let him live inside of his body for the rest of eternity. But no, that wouldn’t do, either. Licking didn’t work, either. At least, for the moment. Biting? Getting closer, still no. 

Crawly would go back to that feeling, trying to make sense of it, without finding a a suitable answer. It was only three weeks and six days later, when he saw Eve try her new discovery on Adam, that he understood. 

It would be six thousand years, give or take, until he managed to satisfy that need.


End file.
